


No milk and two sugar if that's cool

by PeggyLeggy



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - College/University, F/F, but it doesn't really matter, probably also a
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-19
Updated: 2016-09-19
Packaged: 2018-08-16 01:02:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8080636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PeggyLeggy/pseuds/PeggyLeggy
Summary: “What can I get you?” “A large English breakfast tea, thank you."Daisy looked up upon hearing the unfamiliar voice. A shy smile, turning grin, making it’s way onto her cheeks.“ ‘Course you do, English.”





	

For Daisy, there’s nothing quite as good as working the first day of semester rush. Crunchy autumn leaves whirl into the shop alongside a mixture of peppy new students ordering pumpkin cappuccinos and returning students downing double espresso shots. When Jemma Simmons made her way into the crowded corner coffee shop half an hour before her first class, Daisy, alongside her boss, Mack, were churning through customers with practiced ease. 

Jemma hoisted her backpack further on her shoulders and pulled her orange beanie over her ears. A hot cup of tea was exactly what she needed for her first official day of classes. The warmth would heat up her freezing fingers, and the little bit of caffeine would make up for the jitters keeping her awake last night. 

“What can I get you?” Daisy asked, her concentration more on juggling a carton of milk and paper cup refills than on Jemma.

“A large English breakfast tea, thank you,” replied Jemma, digging around for some change in her wallet. 

Daisy looked up upon hearing the unfamiliar voice. A shy smile, turning grin, making it’s way onto her cheeks.

“ ‘Course you do, English.” 

Jemma tsk-ed at her, internally rolling her eyes. The cute barista dressed in a black waist apron covered in tiny flowers probably meant well, but it was a tough joke early in the morning when you’ve heard a one-liner about your accent every day of your life. 

“It’s ‘Jemma’ actually,” she quipped, tucking some hair behind her ear as Daisy leaned her hips on the counter.

“Tremors”, Mack warned beside her, gesturing at the line almost out the door, “keep it moving.” 

“On it,” Daisy replied, “ and the tea is coming up too.”

Jemma moved over to the side of the shop where a half dozen others were waiting for their orders. She dug her phone out of her pocket, checking she still had plenty of time to make it to class across campus, and then she watched the barista and her partner laughing as they churned out coffee after coffee. 

“Mike! Your Americano,” she called, and a tall man went up and collected his cup smiling. 

She wasn’t sure why (later Daisy would insist it was her captivating good looks), but Jemma shuffled half a step sideways to watch their exchange. 

Mike took his cup, leaving a large tip in the jar beside the coffee machine, and spun it around in his hands. From what she could see, there was a drawing on either side of it. Jemma creased her brows, she was sure that none of the customers she’d seen exit before had received a decorated cup.

“It’s charming, really. Ace is going to love it,” she heard Mike say, “looks just like him.”

They said a quick bye, and then Daisy returned to taking orders at rapid pace. 

A couple of coffees later it happened again. 

“Latte for Sparky,” she giggled, and the customer rolled his eyes at her.

“Pikachu? Really?” he said, shaking his head. But emptied the silver out of his pockets into the tip jar with an honest smile. 

A couple of moments later, Daisy called out her order: “English for English.” Jemma took the warm cup, trying to frown at the annoying nickname (and failing rather spectacularly). With a twinge of disappointment Jemma looked at her order and noticed no special drawings.

What she didn’t note was the flower scrawled on the base of the cup.

— 

On 10:52pm of the first Friday night of the new semester, Daisy had not seen a customer in well over half an hour. So she put the finishing strokes on her final drawing (a swooping swallow), scrawled “Bobbi” just below the rim of the cup, and begun packing up the shop. 

The door tinkered, and with a new customer came the whoosh of crisp air. Daisy, stacking her cups below the counter, was about to brush them off with a “I’ve just closed the till for the night”, but then she looked up and saw…what was her name? She recalled something posh from earlier in the week. 

“Sorry for coming in so close to closing time,” Jemma said (Ah, she was English. That would be where the posh came from), closing the door behind her, “but you’re the only place open on campus with hot water and caffeine open this late.”

This wasn’t technically true, Hydration Station, two blocks down the road was open 24/7 (when those poor employees slept, Daisy had no idea), but there was no way she’d send this particular customer over to that Dark Side. Daisy thought that she didn’t look like a fan of big business anyway, what with her navy coat and matching orange beanie and scarf. 

Smooth, Daisy, act smooth for gods sake.

“No worries, what are you after?” Okay, not a disaster. I mean, if smooth meant professional. 

“Just a strong, large, English Breakfast tea, thanks,” Jemma replied, taking off her bag to pull some change out. 

Her voice, combined with the order seemed to turn the cogs in Daisy’s memory. 

“Oh! English! I sort of remember you from earlier this week,” said Daisy, and Jemma went to frown. “But it’s not English it’s… ahh… Jem- Jemima?”

Jemma chuckled. “It’s Jemma, actually, but you were pretty close.”

“Ah my bad, I’ve served a lot of people this week. Sure you don’t want decaf, Jemma?” Daisy asked, moving over to the machine. “Don’t want to keep you up all night…” 

Though the further this conversation went, the more Daisy did want that.

Jemma scrunched her nose a little, “It’ll be fine. I’m sure I’ve got tea for blood at this point - not that that makes any sense, mind you. The library kicked me out, but I want to get a few readings for next week finished tonight.” She hoisted her bag up her shoulders, looking proud.

It was kind of adorable really.

Daisy pulled the tin of English breakfast off the shelf, considering, and then looked back at Jemma. This cup of tea needed to be the best of her life, and boring English Breakfast wasn’t going to cut it.

“You in the mood for something a little different?” asked Daisy, and then further explained, “I’ve got some dried vanilla usually mixed in with the chai left over. And they taste fantastic steeped with black tea.”

“Sounds lovely,” said Jemma. 

“Awesome.”

Daisy puttered around, mixing up the tea and boiling water whilst stealing little glances at Jemma. She bent down and flicked through her spare pre-prepared cup designs. There was everything from aliens to monkeys to cityscapes, but none of them suited the girl standing (slightly stooped from her bag of books) and waiting for a cup of tea at 11 o’clock on a Friday night. 

She pulled out a blank one with a sigh, placing it on the bench next to the steeping tea. And then she realised that there were long, silent, minutes to be filled while it did just that. She glanced at Jemma, who was now nose-deep in a couple of pieces of paper. Her readings, by the look of things.

“So how strong is strong tea for you?” asked Daisy, and Jemma’s nose came up out of her papers. “I don’t often get to brew for someone whose tea is their bread and butter.”

“I’m not that fussy really,” she smiled. And God, was that a smile. “Another minute or two will be fine.”

“Probably don’t want to over-do the vanilla favour anyway,” agreed Daisy. “What are your readings about? Must be a lot better than the ones I get.”

“Oh, it’s on molecular rotational motor proteins!” she gushed, stepping closer to Daisy and the counter. “I’m working on them in the lab as a method of transporting a volatile chemical compound into a cell without damaging the entire system… but you don’t understand a word of that do you?” 

Jemma scrunched her nose, and Daisy shook her head.

“Ah, not really, I’m comp-sci. With an illustration elective thrown in.”

“Oh that explains… I’ll draw it out for you!” Jemma changed tack mid-sentence.

She starts pulling her bag off her shoulders to take out a paper and pen, but Daisy stops her. 

“Here,” she thrusts the blank cup and sharpie at Jemma, “use that instead, it’ll be easier.”

Jemma set her backpack down on the ground and takes them, starting the diagram on the curved surface. Daisy leans a little further across the counter to watch.

“So here’s our protein - “

“It looks like an upside down duck,” said Daisy bluntly. But to her credit, accurately. 

“Hush. Give me a bit of artistic freedom,” replied Jemma, putting the final few circles on her drawing and replacing the cap on the sharpie. “Do you see there,” she pointed with her pinky finger, “the molecules that are entering the motor, react and turn it such that they come out the other side changed.” 

“Huh. Cool.”

Jemma chuckled in agreement. “And very useful, I hope.”

Jemma handed back the sharpie and cup and Daisy swapped it with a clean one from below the counter. She took her time doing a couple of pouring tricks with the tea and milk, something she rarely got to indulge in during the morning. Jemma smiled all through them.

And then she was placing her tip, wrapping her hands around the cup and raising an eyebrow.

“You’re keeping the duck?’

“Of course,” replied Daisy. “Sooo… what does the scientist think of the brew?”

“Delicious,” said Jemma, looking upwards. “Have a nice evening - um what’s your name?”

“Daisy.”

“Daisy. Well, thank you for the tea and have a nice evening.”

Daisy rested her head in her hands as Jemma tinkered out of the shop door. If her goofy smile was any indication, she’d really like Jemma to return.

**Author's Note:**

> *throws confetti* ~ pseudo-science ~  
> Thanks for reading, comments are always appreciated <3


End file.
